You hop over another low-swinging as you consider your options. It's lucky enough that, for all the branches the tree has, they're pretty slow. Not slow enough that they won't severely hurt, but slow enough that you can see them coming. The hard part's keeping track of all of them at once.
What's effective against a tree? That's the million-bit question. An axe? That'd be great... if only you had one. Same with any other bladed tool; you're fresh out. A pony with less foresight might try fire, the natural weakness of trees, but given that you're trapped inside what's basically a giant tinder box and have no interest in becoming Rainbow Flambe, that's another idea to scratch off the list.
But what does that leave? Pretty much your bare hooves and the couple of oddball items in your Inventory that don't have a super clear and obvious purpose. Like the experimental formula you got from your twisted doppelganger. Who knows what kind of nasty stuff she put in there? It might even be poison!
...poison which could be useful against an angry tree.
Well, it's the best plan you've got at the moment. You sidestep another branch and take the vial from your Bucket, testing its weight in your grip. Ideally you want to hit the trunk itself.
You wait for an opening, bobbing and weaving around the branches that swing by too close for comfort, until you finally see your chance and throw it! The vial flies true, slipping between the branches and shattering against the main body of the trunk! The branches freeze in place as the tree seems to shiver, the fluid rapidly absorbing into the bark.
As you watch, a wave of color starts to spread from the point of contact, coloring in the white of the bark with a pale blue. It travels quickly along the branches until it reaches the blossoms, making the crimson petals pop into new rainbow shades.
And then it starts to move again. So so much faster.
It's like the tree's been kicked into overdrive as it forces you to jump, dodge, and twist. Worst of all, it was definitely just flailing randomly before, but now the tree is clearly targeting you specifically. Not just that, but you could swear it's toying with you. Four branches converge on your position, one lagging behind just far enough to give you an opening to squeeze through. Another branch chases you down as the rest try to guide your flight towards a rats nest of a wooden net. One near-failure after another, each one forcing you into greater and greater complex flight maneuvers to keep ahead. Until finally...
You feel a terrible pressure as something hits you in the stomach and back at the same time, clamping down like a vise. You struggle, but their grip is so strong you can't even feel your back legs. The branches pull you towards the trunk, to a large gash in the side you thought was a weird shadow. It's not. It's a deep chasm-like mouth, filled with millions of needle teeth. You close your eyes as you're forced inside and feel countless pinpricks across your body.
You last thought before darkness takes you is that maybe it was foolish to trust your fate to the creation of a crazy pony.
[Drained and dried, you will make excellent fertilizer. Add one (+1) to your Fear Meter]
The sound of slow clapping rouses you from the embrace of Morponyeus. You look around in confusion briefly before recognizing the foyer of the haunted house. Again.
You groan as you realize that, once again, you let Starlight's magic influence your mind and make you forget that you were never in any real danger. On one hoof, it's really frustrating looking back on your foolish actions. On the other... holy moly does it make things seem real at the time! Who needs fights with actual monsters when you can get the same rush from spelling yourself to think an illusion is real? A mare could get used to that kind of thing.
Speak of getting used to things, you notice that Trixie hasn't started her usual critique of your choices. You glance up to the balcony and... yep, she's there. Dressed in a ratty old jacket, some kind of collar with a chain, and a beat-up hockey mask that looks older than you are. She says nothing as she meets your gaze (probably, it's hard to tell through the mask) only twirling a machete in her magical grip.
"Are you supposed to be some kind of homeless pony?" you quip. "Or would that just be your normal look?"
"I—what? Why you—!" She drops the knife (which clatters against the railing with the sound of plastic) and lifts up her mask to reveal a scowl. "First of all, I'm Mason Jar."
She pauses as if this is supposed to be significant. You shrug.
"Really? The famous Crystal Empire Smasher? Mute scourge of their lakeside community until Sombra recruited him as a general? Geez, pick up a book sometime. Secondly." She makes a rude gesture with her hoof. "I am not homeless! I have a very high-end wagon, thank you very much!" She slams her mask back down and resumes leering over you.
History was never your strong suit. Outside of Wonderbolts history, anyway, but that's a special case. So for all you know she might as well just made this Mason pony up and hoped that no one would call her bluff. Either way, it's really not your concern. You have more important things to worry about.
Like choosing new path that doesn't lead to you being eaten by a tree.
There doesn't seem to be anything to interact with in this room, but there are three hallways that branch off that head LEFT, FORWARD, and RIGHT.
If your Fear Meter is full, you must select the fourth option.